


Do You Wanna Fuck A Snowman; or, Sirius Refuses to Let It Go

by NoHonkingInTheLibrary, NorvelTwonk



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Multi, No beta we die like Remus’s dignity, OTW Staffers are Immoral Support, Olaf the Snowman becomes a cryptid, Wranglers Are Not Adult Supervision, idk what to say here they fuck the snowman, porn with a soupçon of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:54:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28928367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoHonkingInTheLibrary/pseuds/NoHonkingInTheLibrary, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorvelTwonk/pseuds/NorvelTwonk
Summary: Remus knew from the start that something terrible was going to happen, because Sirius bursting into song as he came into the dorm was literally always bad news. Even so, he could not possibly expect what happened next.“Do you wanna fuck a snowman?” he began, and Remus was so caught off guard that he threw off the rhythm entirely.“No?” he said. He wasnotsinging this duet.Or, the time when Sirius had a plan, Remus went along for the ride, and Olaf the snowman had his first sexual experience.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin/Olaf (Disney), wolafstar - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Do You Wanna Fuck A Snowman; or, Sirius Refuses to Let It Go

**Author's Note:**

> Please know: we're not sorry, and we will never be sorry. This is a crime we have perpetrated on the English language and the minds of everyone who reads it with full knowledge of what we were doing, and if this is what sends us to hell, we will go merrily on our way. 
> 
> NoHonkingInTheLibrary caused this to exist, and wrote parts of the fic; NorvelTwonk wrote the filk and the bulk of the smut. (And yes, there is smut. Again, no, we are not sorry.)
> 
> A bunch of people contributed ideas: fabsatan (who also had essential canon knowledge and [baked his own cake](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870182)), I., P., G., B.G. and the ghost of moral support.
> 
> We would also like to give a thanks/apology to the people who walked in on this brainstorming unexpectedly. We are sorry or alternatively glad we could give you this experience, whichever is applicable.
> 
> Also we CANNOT stop looking at this gif of Olaf, specifically his eyes  
> 

  
  


Remus knew from the start that something terrible was going to happen, because Sirius bursting into song as he came into the dorm was literally always bad news. Even so, he could not possibly expect what happened next.

“Do you wanna fuck a snowman?” he began, and Remus was so caught off guard that he threw off the rhythm entirely.

“No?” he said. He was _not_ singing this duet.

“We’ve gotten kinda boring in the sack!” 

Remus felt that this was information Sirius could have communicated in private instead of singing it at top volume _while James and Peter were in the room_ , but he supposed that a sensible Sirius would probably not be a Sirius he was in love with, so he only had himself to blame.

“No! I—” Unfortunately, he was cut off by Sirius singing the next line.

“So let's go outside, I've got a great idea,  
it couldn't fail, grab your robes and I'll bring snacks!  
We used to be advent'rous, lots of weird sex charms,  
and I found a new one to tryyyyyy!  
Do you wanna fuck a snowman?”

“Again, no, what—”

“Okay, let’s go!”

Remus almost fell as Sirius tugged him off his bed by the arm. “No, absolutely not, go fuck the snowman yourself!”

“Okay, bye,” Sirius sang sadly. Remus was grudgingly impressed he was still singing.

He listened to Sirius’s footsteps getting further away and finally becoming inaudible. 

“I’m going to have to go with him to make sure his balls don’t fall off, aren’t I,” Remus said, already resigned to his fate.

Peter said, “I guess,” with a shrug, apparently completely unbothered by this entire scene.

James, on the other hand, moaned sadly. “Why did Merlin allow you _both_ to be gay, and more than that, why did he do this to _me?_ Why did I have to witness this? If you ever discuss fucking a snowman in my presence again, I will make sure you are physically incapable of fucking anything ever again.”

“Should I pass that message onto Sirius?”

“Yes. But you’re on notice too.”

James then stuck his head under his pillow. Remus felt it was terribly unfair that James was allowed to hide from the reality of this situation when he himself was putting his shoes and robes on to go make sure Sirius didn’t do anything stupid, and most likely would be forced to watch him fuck a snowman. 

No point delaying it. He followed Sirius downstairs and out of the doors.

“Moony!” Sirius called as his footsteps echoed. “You’ve decided to join me!”

“Only as a means of preserving your life,” Remus replied.

“Aw, come on,” Sirius wheedled as he lead them through the halls, and without warning launched into song once more. “Do you wanna fuck a snowman? Let's get our dicks both wet and cold!”

Remus was startled into laughter as Sirius smugly continued caroling. 

“It could be fun if chilly so, come on let's go, all Gryffindors are bold!”

“No!” Remus said. Sirius was unrepressed. 

“We can pioneer snow-fucking, it's free real estate, we'll be the first ones to tryyy,  
do you wanna fuck a snowman?”

“I do not.” 

“Let's both go and fuck a snowman!”

“Sirius, I will kill you.”

“Come on, Moony!”

“Sirius, I am not joking.”

“Neither am Iiiiii!”

“So why,” Remus said, in an effort to head off another verse, “did you insist that I be involved in this?”

“Well, I figured that fucking a sentient snowman without you would be cheating, no?” Sirius replied, stopping for a moment to put up the hood of his cloak. Remus did the same.

“I gu— wait, sentient?”

“Yeah, I mean, I figure that getting consent from the snowman would be important to you, so we’d need to make it sentient.”

Flitwick charmed small lumps of coal every year to animate snow-creatures which then wandered around the grounds, unmeltable, from the last two weeks of term to whenever he decided to kill them (dismantle them?) for another year. This did not mean that the snowmen were sentient, in much the same way that the suits of armour that lined the corridors were not sentient. They roamed about in whatever misshapen form they took for that year, students daring each other to add or subtract snow from their bodies, until Flitwick took them away.

Unfortunately, if there was one person who was going to be able to create a charm to give them sentience, Sirius was that person.

“Do you have a charm ready or are you just planning on making one up on the spot? God, if we have to deal with some army of zombie snowmen because of you making a mistake I am leaving you to your fate.”

“What’s a zombie? And yes, I have been working on one, actually.”

Remus considered for a moment and then said, “It’s not important. Go on.”

Thankfully, Sirius did not plan on fucking a snowman in full view of the castle windows, which was something that Remus had worried about. No, his plan was far more detailed than Remus would have anticipated; he had already determined which creature to steal, a small and misshapen snowman of the classic variety, which seemed the least likely to be missed. They found the little snowman and led the docile thing into the Forbidden Forest. They weren’t deep enough to risk being interrupted by something properly dangerous, but they were definitely hidden from view. 

As they walked, Remus had to ask a question.

“How sentient is ‘sentient,’ Pads? Like yes-or-no sentient, or like… chatty?”

Sirius shrugged. “We’ll have to find out, I haven’t tested it all properly yet. Why?”

“Well,” Remus said, “since you’re planning to get that snowman’s consent— which I’m proud of you for, even if it’s a terrible thing you’re doing— I’m just wondering what happens if we get all the way out there and then the snowman doesn’t want to fuck you?”

Sirius stopped and swung about. “How dare you,” he said. “That’s unrealistic, that is. _Everyone_ wants a piece of this.” He gestured to his body, obscured by his cloak.

Remus rolled his eyes. “Of course, how foolish of me.”

Once they arrived in the small clearing that was their destination, Remus parked himself on the fallen oak that had created the clearing to watch Sirius do an admittedly terrifically complex piece of charmswork. 

“Could you not stare at me like that?” Sirius asked at one point. “It’s throwing off my concentration.”

Remus exhaled a cloud of smoke from the cigarette he was idly puffing. “Oh, dreadfully sorry. Would hate for all of this to fail,” he said drily. “Wouldn’t that be a tragedy.”

Sirius rededicated himself to his work, muttering as he paced around the placid, waist-height snowman. Remus settled in for a bit of a kip.

“Ha!” Sirius exclaimed a bit later, startling Remus into nearly tumbling off the log. “There we go! Hello, snowman!”

Remus looked over just as the snowman shook his oddly-shaped head, which had at some point acquired a few twigs sticking up straight, oddly like hair, and blinked two oversized eyes into existence. “Hi!” the snowman said, in a higher-pitched voice than either of the two lads were expecting. “I’m Olaf!”

“You have a name?” Sirius asked, baffled and pleased. He hadn’t expected his charm to work so well!

“It has _a name?_ ” Remus asked, horrified.

“Well, I didn’t have a name until just now, but now I do! Wow, look at the trees! Look at you! Gosh, being alive is so exciting.” 

“Sirius, are you going to fuck a child?” Remus asked, becoming more uncomfortable with this by the second.

“I… I mean, no, I absolutely will not fuck Olaf if he’s a child. I have limits. I know you think I don’t, but fucking a child is… who do you take me for?”

“I was just checking,” Remus said. “I mean, you have started this whole exercise by suggesting we fuck a snowman, so…”

“What’s fucking?” Olaf said, looking between them. He sounded just as interested as he was in the trees.

“Okay, okay, first of all, how do we… how do we determine if you’re a child? Can we? I mean, snowmen… don’t have childhoods because they’re… oh fuck, what if he _is_ a child.” Sirius looked absolutely devastated, which Remus thought was an overreaction to not being able to fuck a sentient ball of snow.

“What’s a child?” Olaf asked.

“A person who is…. under a certain threshold of age? Not fully able to make their own choices?” Remus hazarded, trying to select the attributes more relevant to the issue at hand.

“Oh!” Olaf said. “My buttons have been used at least 35 times, if that matters? I don’t know how you keep track of time.”

“I’ll take it,” Sirius said. “See? He’s 35, Moony. Practically middle-aged.”

Remus threw up his hands. “Lovely! You can be his middle-age crisis, then.”

“What’s a crisis?” Olaf asked, perkily, as everything he did was perky to some extent or another. Remus would consider that a turn-off but whatever floated Sirius’s boat.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “Before we proceed with the afternoon’s event, we have to explain what fucking is.”

Remus was suddenly acutely aware that he absolutely did not want to be present for this explanation. “I’m just going to… be anywhere but here. Tell me when you’re done explaining, alright?” he said before walking in a random direction out of the clearing. His cigarette had burnt down, so he lit another as Sirius’s voice faded from earshot.

“So you see, when a boy snowman wants to give pleasure to another boy snowman…”

How the fuck was this his life? What had he done to deserve this? Remus stared at the sky and puffed meditatively on the end of his cigarette, taking stock of his life choices. Perhaps he should have let the Hat sort him into Ravenclaw, like it had offered. Maybe that would have saved him this particular experience.

“Moony!” Sirius’s voice broke through his reverie.

“What?” he hollered back.

“Come back!” Sirius called, and Remus paced slowly back to the scene of the crime.

“...and that’s fucking,” Sirius was saying. Remus nearly turned right back around, until he heard his name. “So, Olaf, what are your feelings on fucking? Me, specifically, or Remus if you’d prefer, I suppose. He is rather fetching.”

“Hang on,” Remus said, “I didn’t—”

“Can I fuck you?” Olaf asked Sirius in his peppy voice. “Or do you… hang on, explain topping again, please?”

Remus bit his lip hard enough that he regretted it. “Sirius, if I have to listen to that, I will actually die. I’ll just give up on existence right here.”

“I don’t think that’s how dying works,” Sirius said.

“Try me,” Remus replied, looking him directly in the eye. 

“Okay, Olaf, I guess explaining topping again is off the table,” Sirius said a little sadly.

“Well, you can fuck me if you like!” Olaf was extremely earnest. It was sort of charming, or it would have been in any other context. “I’ll let you know if it feels bad.”

Sirius was already hiking up his robes and unbuckling, dropping his trousers and underwear in one motion. “I promise you, it will not be bad.”

Remus rubbed his temples. “He’s got a point about that, the lad can fuck. He’s rubbish at a lot of things, but not fucking.”

Sirius was already half hard and he hadn’t even… no, Remus did not want to think about this too much. He thought perhaps Sirius would ask him to help… prepare, or whatever, but it looked like he had this well in hand, so to speak.

“We're bonding! Right? Is this what bonding is?” Olaf asked, looking at Remus with his disconcertingly large eyes.

“You can call it that, if you like,” Sirius said, wandlessly casting one of the lubrication charms that he’d become extremely good at over the past year and stroking his cock to full, which was no mean feat in the chill air.

Remus was tapping another cigarette out of his carton, trying not to overthink any of what was occurring before him. “Olaf, I do hope you know you’re allowed to say no to Sirius. I know he’s very persuasive, but he’s an idiot, and you can stop this at any time. Just say the word.”

“What word?” Olaf asked, blinking. 

“Padfoot,” Remus said, “do you and your snowman have a safeword?”

“It’s ‘stop,’ of course,” Sirius said, his flag flying at full mast. “If it stops being fun, Olaf you just say stop, alright?”

“Okay!” Olaf agreed cheerfully. There was a muffled sound, and Remus watched from a short distance as his boyfriend thrust his hips and inserted his cock into the snowman’s…. mouth? Head? It was somewhat unclear. Remus took a drag of his cigarette to avoid thinking about the matter at greater depth. 

Sirius thrust in and out a few times, and Remus was accustomed to Sirius keeping up a running patter of narration and praise while he fucked, and so was aware that Sirius was being uncharacteristically quiet. Olaf seemed pleased enough, but squinting at Sirius revealed an expression one would be hard-put to call “pleasurable.”

“So, Padfoot,” Remus called. “How is it so far? Enjoying yourself?”

“Oh, yeah,” he called back, voice strained. “Do me a favor, love, spot me a warming charm?”

Remus already had his wand in his hand. “I mean, I thought you would have considered the idea of warming charms this morning,” he said, not casting yet. “When you were serenading me about fucking a snowman in our dorm, in front of Wormtail and Prongs and God and McGonagall and everyone, but apparently not, hm?”

Sirius was getting rather strained. _“Listen, Moony, for the love of Circe, my bollocks are about to shrivel up and—”_

Remus muttered a localized warming charm that shouldn’t affect the poor snowman, who certainly hadn’t asked for this to be his day any more than Remus had. 

“I’m sorry!” Olaf said, eyes turning to look up at Sirius. “Am I too cold? Does it feel bad?”

Sirius patted the side of Olaf’s head, trying to thrust again now that some feeling was returning to his cock. “No, Olaf, you’re lovely. You’re doing great.”

“You’re holding up admirably, really,” Remus told the snowman. “I certainly couldn’t do what you’re doing even half so well. Just shout if you start to feel at all melty, okay?”

Olaf blinked guilelessly. “What’s melty mean?”

Sirius slowed to a stop, and held Remus’s gaze for a moment that seemed to stretch out. Remus cast a quick cooling charm on Olaf’s head, just in case. It occurred to him that, since Flitwick put away the snowmen each year, Olaf would never have had cause to melt naturally. He didn’t understand his own natural predators.

Remus cleared his throat. “So, Pads,” he said. “Is it everything you dreamed it would be?”

Olaf turned to look up at him. Sirius picked up the pace of his thrusting, going for friction. Through gritted teeth, he answered: “all that and more.”

Remus watched in horrified fascination as his boyfriend fucked the head of a sentient snowman for all he was worth. Sirius really put his back into it, too, re-casting the lubrication charm to give himself the best possible chance of finishing at all. Slowly, even this began to feel pretty good, and Remus watched Sirius’ expression move from determined focus to something resembling pleasure. His rhythm began to stutter, and Remus smoked slowly as Sirius began to, at long last, orgasm.

He watched Sirius pull out and finish onto the snow beside him, and wondered if it made sense that he was proud of Sirius for not doing that in the poor snowman’s head. There was no way to explain this using words that a sane person would understand, but Remus was proud of him anyway.

“Is that snow? Can you make snow? I just thought that it fell from the sky! Wow, that’s so cool.”

As Olaf looked at the jizz on the ground in childlike wonderment, Sirius and Remus exchanged a horrified look over his head. How the _fuck_ were they supposed to answer that?

“Ah, no. It’s… it’s liquid that human bodies— well, some human bodies— make when… I don’t think I can do this,” Sirius said, looking to Remus for help.

“You made this bed! I am not explaining fucking cum to a snowman,” Remus said firmly, and Sirius sighed, nodding.

“It’s not really important,” Sirius said to Olaf. “It means they really enjoyed it and they’re finished now.”

“Oh, there’s an ending?” Olaf said.

“Did… you enjoy it?” Sirius asked hesitantly.

“I think so? I mean, I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like,” Olaf said. “But it was fun! You said fucking is something people do when they like each other, and I like you! You’re my friend!” Olaf grinned, his teeth very pronounced in his face. 

Sirius patted Olaf’s head, avoiding his hair-twigs. “I like you too, mate. I hope it feels good for you. I’d see about returning the favor—” Remus’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline at that “—but I’m frankly not sure if you even have genitalia, much less… the, uh, infrastructure for it.”

Remus stared at Sirius in mute horror. 

“Maybe....” Sirius reached out a hand and poked the tip of Olaf’s carrot nose. “D’you reckon…?”

“His _nose?”_ Remus was aghast in new and increasingly inventive ways. “No, I do _not_ reckon!”

“Well, it’s the most phallic bit on him!” Sirius said defensively.

“My carrot?” Olaf asked. “What’s phallic?”

“Phallic means like a penis,” Remus explained, “which your nose— well, I take your point, but it’s not—”

“Oh, my nose comes off!” Olaf said, demonstrating this feature by taking it off his face in his little stick-arm. “I don’t know if penises do that, is that part of being phallic?”

“It is not,” Remus said, struggling to maintain a semblance of dignity. Sirius was cackling openly, no dignity remaining to a man who had recently orgasmed in the Forbidden Forest onto the ground and who, considering the evidence, was probably still bare-arsed beneath his cloak. 

“It’s like Olaf comes pre-equipped with his own detachable strap-on!” Sirius wheezed. “Do you still feel it when it’s not part of your head?”

“No,” Olaf said, popping the carrot back between his eyes. It was a bit horrifying to watch, actually, Remus thought, watching the snowman’s features distort to allow the carrot back into place. “I don’t actually feel it at all. I get a new one every so often, when something happens to my current nose.” He patted the root vegetable with absent-minded fondness.

“That’s a pity. What sort of thing happens to them? I would think they’d be enchanted somehow” Sirius asked. He seemed fascinated.

Olaf shrugged. “I lose them, or they crack and get gross, or sometimes they get eaten. Eight years ago, one of Madame Maxime’s abraxans stole my nose and ate it, and I didn’t have a nose until a house-elf noticed and gave me a new one.” He seemed unbothered by this. “They’re just regular carrots.” 

“So what I’m hearing is, they won’t give you pleasure, but they will be able to serve as a, shall we say, post-coital snack?” Sirius said, and Remus found another, brand-new level of aghast to be.

“I hate you,” he informed Sirius. “I have never hated you more than in this moment. Knowing this information has lessened the quality of my life.”

Olaf looked confused but not especially hurt, so Remus didn’t feel bad for saying it.

“I have an idea,” Sirius said.

“No,” Remus replied immediately. 

“You haven’t let me finish my idea,” Sirius said, pouting slightly.

Remus crossed his arms. “I have no need to hear your idea. The answer to whatever it is is absolutely fucking not.”

Olaf looked from one to the other. “I like ideas!” he said. “Will it be fun?”

“Almost certainly not,” Remus said, at exactly the same moment as Sirius said brightly, “I certainly hope so!”

Olaf grinned toothily, which was not something a snowman ought to be able to do. “I don’t understand what’s going on!”

“Oh, actually, hang on, new idea,” Sirius said, “Moony, you remember those enchanted condoms from Zonko's? The ones that make your prick look like something else?”

“Oh Merlin’s ballsack,” Remus was already sighing.

“Well, what if we got some that were made to make us look like carrots!” Sirius said, sounding far more enthusiastic about this than he should. “Wouldn’t that be a laugh and a half? I bet Olaf would enjoy that, wouldn’t you, mate?”

“Maybe!” Olaf said. “I don’t know, being fucked by something that looks like my own nose seems kind of weird! _Is_ it weird? Or is that a normal fucking thing?”

Silence stretched out luxuriously in the small clearing as Remus and Sirius looked at each other, new and unfortunate thoughts tumbling through their minds.

Olaf shrugged. “I’m new to fucking. Maybe it’s normal, I don’t know! Are people usually into noses?”

Remus opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “I can promise you, it is not normal to be into noses.”

“Or have noses into you!” Sirius said, immediately thereafter clapping a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry, it simply came out,” he said. “Although, actually, I can think of at least one person with a nose big enough—”

“Stop,” Remus said. “No. Desist immediately, do not pass go, do not accept two hundred—”

“Is that from that muggle game?” Sirius interrupted. Remus ignored him. 

“I forbid you from even thinking those thoughts,” Remus went on. “And I doubly forbid you from making _me_ think them too.” 

Sirius cackled merrily, Olaf joining him though he seemed unclear on the joke.

“And furthermore,” Remus said over the laughter, “you’re talking about this as though we will ever be in this situation again. Which we will not. Because I have never hated you more than in this moment, right here, somehow even more than I hated you a minute ago, which at the time seemed impossible, and yet here we are. So if you ever do this again, I shall simply be forced to kill you and they shall never find your body or wand.”

He said all of this with a calm, serious expression.

“You don’t mean that, do you, love,” Sirius said, cautiously.

“Would you care to find out?” Remus asked, raising one eyebrow.

Olaf looked confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about again,” he said, “but neither of you sound like you’re having fun anymore. Can we go back to having fun? I like that better.”

“Oh yes,” Sirius said. “Of course we can, my small friend. In fact, perhaps it’s Remus’s turn to have fun with you. It seems like he could rather use it, hm?”

Remus’s expression morphed rapidly into unadulterated panic. “I don’t know that—”

Sirius, undeterred, grinned hugely. “Olaf, I thik Remus wants to fuck you too, and is simply unable to find the words for how much he’d like that.”

Olaf looked up at Remus with his oversized eyes, looking pleased. “You do? That’s so nice of you! I bet we’d have a lot of fun, fucking together!”

Remus’s lips pressed together until his mouth nearly disappeared. Sirius’s smile blossomed into a full-wattage grin.

“Isn’t that _nice_ of you, Moony? Olaf is so happy that you want to fuck him!”

“Right,” Remus said, so tightly that his lips barely moved at all. “Could I have a word with you? Over here?”

Remus was reasonably certain he was not actually going to hex his boyfriend into unconsciousness in the Forbidden Forest where no one would find his body. Like, seventy percent sure. He looked at Sirius’s unrepentant face. Sixty percent.

“What can I do for you, my love?” Sirius asked when they’d moved far enough away that Olaf probably couldn’t hear them (although he had no idea what the earshot range of a snowman was — it was entirely possible he could hear them plain as day).

“I may have followed you into this to make sure your bollocks didn’t literally fall off because I have a vested interest in them. I may have even helped facilitate you fucking a snowman because I love you and again, I would personally like your cock to continue having a blood supply. That does _not_ mean I am going to fuck the snowman.”

“But he’s so pleased!” Sirius said, gesturing towards the clearing, where they could just see Olaf through the trees. Very faintly they could hear him humming an unfamiliar tune. “You can’t disappoint the wee lad!”

Remus closed his eyes and tilted his face towards the sky, hoping a loving or even perhaps friendly god would end his suffering. No convenient lightning bolt arrived, so he had to contend with Sirius’s weirdly effective combination of shit-eating grin and puppy dog eyes, which were two things that should not be able to occur at the same time.

“Even if I were willing to indulge you, which I would only do because for some reason I love you although I am reconsidering that decision, I cannot get it up for a diminutive snowman.”

Sirius grinned. “I happen to know a _range_ of charms for this very situation!”

“Let me rephrase,” Remus said, crossing his arms, “I _will not_ get it up for the snowman, don’t you dare.”

Sirius waggled his eyebrows. “Didn’t take you for a coward, my love,” he said. “Where’s your spirit of curiosity? Where’s your, what’s the phrase, scientist’s rigid?”

“Do you mean _scientific rigour_?” Remus asked.

“Oh,” Sirius said. “That’s much less phallic than I remember.”

“Fuck you,” Remus said. “I’m going to murder you with my own two hands, see if I don’t. Alright, cast your charms and let’s get this over with.”

Sirius’s wand was already in motion. “I can’t believe you gave in so fast! I was prepared to beg, plead, wheedle and possibly even cajole you into it. I didn’t expect you to be so excited!”

“Oh, I’m going to complain the whole time,” Remus said, “please don’t think otherwise. But I know that look of yours, and it’ll save us both a lot of time to just get this out of the way. _Merlin’s sack_ that feels weird!”

Sirius, staring at Remus’s now-prominent bulge, licked his lips. “Looks good to me. Come on, let’s get started before it wears off.” He nudged Remus into motion back towards the cheerful snowman. “And don’t complain while it’s happening, you’ll make Olaf sad.”

Olaf grinned at them. “What will make me sad?”

“Absolutely nothing, you charming creature,” Remus managed, his cock now uncomfortably hard. “How would you like to do this?”

Olaf tilted his head. “Like before,” he said. “There are other ways to do it?”

Remus had made many mistakes in his life (becoming Sirius’s boyfriend was rapidly rising to the top of the list) but he suspected this was by far his biggest. There was absolutely no way in hell that he was explaining different sex positions to a snowman. 

“Oh, yes,” Sirius said, seven shades too gleefully.

“The normal way is quite alright, thanks!” Remus said, cutting him off before Sirius could get into the topic. He yanked down his zipper, pulling out his now rock-hard cock, which stood proudly erect in the chilly air. “Shall we? Padfoot, if you could do me a warming charm.”

“I would like nothing better,” Sirius replied, casting the warming charm and adding his lubrication charm as well, because all evidence to the contrary, he did love his boyfriend. “Have at it!”

Remus gritted his teeth and reached out, avoiding the twig-hairs on Olaf’s head as he took hold and just… thrust forward. He made some sort of noise as his cock entered the snow, but couldn’t have described it if he’d been paid to do so. The experience of fucking directly into the head of a senient snowman defied language. He looked up and met Sirius’s expectant gaze.

“Yes?” he asked, heroically managing to keep thrusting.

“So?” Sirius asked. “How is it? How does it feel?”

“Kinda weird!” Olaf replied, clearly thinking Sirius was speaking to him. “I have a penis in my head!”

Remus’s hips stuttered at this, his mouth opening silently. 

“I also often have cocks on my mind!” Sirius said. “Not in it, though.”

Remus resumed thrusting, going for steady if not pleasurable. “That’s not quite true,” he said, “you often seem to have nothing but bollocks between your ears.”

Sirius mimed taking an arrow to the heart. Remus rolled his eyes, snorting at his boyfriend’s antics. His cock was, to his own horror, starting to feel pretty good as he fucked Olaf’s head. 

“Was that a good sound?” Olaf asked, eyes turning to Remus. “Does it feel good?”

Unwilling to admit to it, Remus asked, “Why do you ask?”

“Because Sirius made noises and talked to me and stuff,” Olaf said. “You’re mostly just talking to Sirius.”

“Moony, my love, you’re making the snowman feel bad,” Sirius scolded him. 

“I’m terribly sorry, Olaf,” Remus said, trying to string words together. “You’re… you’re quite good, I’m just… distracted.”

“By what? Sirius?” Olaf asked. Remus found that he couldn’t keep eye contact with the creature whose head he was thrusting into, and settled for looking at Sirius.

“Yes,” Remus said. “Perhaps he should take over for me, since he was apparently more enjoyable for you.”

Sirius laughed, then stopped when he realized Remus was not joking. “Oh?” he said. “But I thought you were having a nice time with Olaf! Perhaps it would be better if I…”

Remus was already shaking his head no when Sirius finished, “... joined you?”

“Oh! You can do that?” Olaf asked, sounding so pleased and excited that Remus was already sinkingly aware what was going to happen, losing his rhythm entirely. “That sounds fun!”

Sirius gestured towards Olaf. “See, Moony? _Olaf_ thinks it sounds fun!”

Remus, who was at this point is just standing still with his cock buried in Olaf’s head, sighed deeply. “Of course he does. Well, in THAT case.” He beckoned Sirius over. “Come join us, Padfoot, we can ménage à snowman.”

Sirius already had his robes open, casting a warming charm as he approached. “Or, as the French call it, a threesome de neige!”

“No, they absolutely do not,” Remus said, as Sirius brought his cock to full hardness and thrust into the opposite side of Olaf’s head. 

“This _is_ fun!” Olaf said, looking at this cheerfully. They were on either side of his face; if he’d had ears, they’d be ear-fucking him. Remus wished immediately he could un-think that thought, but it remained, stubbornly being thought.

Remus resumed thrusting for lack of better options. He could, if he concentrated, just feel the suggestion of Sirius’s familiar cock, a bit to the right of his, separated by a scant few centimeters of enchanted snow.

“How does _this_ feel, Olaf?” Sirius asked, looking like he was having a lovely time as he fucked into Olaf’s head. 

“Different!” Olaf replied after a moment to think about it. “Yours feels different.”

“Different how?” Remus asked. Damn his curiosity. He continued thrusting, somewhat perfunctorily. 

“Hmm,” Olaf said. “Well, yours is bigger. But Sirius is thrusting harder.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at Sirius, who looked deeply offended. “Yes, that does rather sum it up, doesn’t it.”

“Bugger off, you are NOT bigger than I am,” Sirius said, “we’re _the same size._ We’ve _discussed this.”_

“Not according to the snowman!” Remus said, grinning. 

Olaf nodded, which was another new sensory experience for Remus’s dick. “I’m a very good judge of this! Your penises are both inside my head right now!”

This was the final straw for Remus’s overwhelmed brain; he began laughing, more than a touch hysterically, as his hips came to a halt as he clutched Olaf’s head to stay upright. 

“It’s— that’s true—” he gasped out, “our penises are— they’re in— they’re in your head—”

Sirius began to giggle, which only put Remus further into hysterics. Olaf looked up at them, then seemed to shrug and started laughing as well, despite clearly not understanding the joke, which only put Remus _further_ into hysterics, until he was laying on the ground, clutching his aching stomach. His cock was still hard, jutting up into the air, a testament to Sirius’s spellcasting. 

“Oh, Merlin,” Sirius wheezed. “Oh, my sides hurt.”

Remus rolled over onto his elbows and kissed Sirius’s smile. “I hate you,” he informed him. “I hate you so much.”

“I know,” Sirius said, hauling him closer. Remus crawled atop him, straddling Sirius’s stomach and pressing closer, kissing him with fervor. 

They made out a bit, getting quite into it, before remembering they had an audience.

“That looks weird!” Olaf said. “Do you like licking each other’s mouths? Does it feel good?”

“...yes,” Sirius said.

“Usually,” Remus added.

“You wound me, Moony,” Sirius said, grinding his hips upward into Remus’s arse.

Remus laughed and ground back, managing to get Sirius to swear under his breath, which meant that Remus had won, of course.

“Is this what you normally do?” Olaf asked, not sounding at all put out that they had stopped fucking his head. 

Sirius tilted his head back to look at the snowman. “Yeah, sometimes,” he said. “Sometimes we do other stuff, too.”

“Do you fuck each other’s heads?” Olaf asked. “Like me?”

Remus choked on his inhalation. Sirius’s face didn’t move a muscle, which Remus was extremely impressed by. All that Black family training, hard at work. 

“We sometimes use our mouths,” Sirius managed. “Human heads, uh, don’t work the same way as your head, though.”

“Oh,” Olaf said, nodding. “That makes sense. You’re not made of snow.”

“No,” Remus agreed thinly. “We are not.”

Olaf seemed to be thinking about this. “Can I see?” he asked finally. “What you usually do.”

Sirius looked up at Remus, asking with his expression. 

“Yes,” Remus said, trying not to sound relieved. “Sure, Olaf. We can show you what a blowjob looks like.”

“Oh, cool!” Olaf said, plopping down to sit on the ground, watching with avid interest. “Does all the fucking have special names?”

“Some of it,” Sirius said. 

“What’s the fucking we were doing called?” Olaf asked, as Remus helped Sirius up off the ground. 

“....I’m not sure anyone’s named it yet,” Sirius managed. 

“Can _I_ name it?” Olaf asked, sounding thrilled at this new idea.

“Sure you can,” Sirius agreed. Remus was brushing off of their cloaks, which had both been spelled to be impervious so the snow and mud mostly just slid off. 

“Head-fucking!” Olaf said. “No, wait. Snow-head-fucking?”

“Second one’s better,” Remus said quickly. “Pads, you want to do the honors?” He gestured to his cock.

“Why should I?” Sirius asked. Remus raised one eyebrow, managing to indicate several concepts at once: this is your fault, you’re the one who enchanted my cock, you’re the one who brought us out here and gave the snowman sentience, and also you’ve already come once today. Sirius shrugged and nodded. “Fair enough.”

He laid his cloak under his knees, reaching out to take Remus’s cock in hand, and just before his mouth made contact Sirius pulled his wand back out to remove the warming and lubrication charms from both of them. 

“Sorry,” Sirius said, tucking his wand and his dick both back into his trousers. “That lube spell tastes terrible.”

Remus grinned down at him as Sirius took to his task with a will, licking Remus’s cock in long, slow stripes before taking the whole of it into his mouth, working Remus over with a thoroughness and a will. It was as much an apology as it was a pleasure, and by the way Remus threaded his fingers into Sirius’s hair, his long fingers flexing against Sirius’s scalp, it was accepted.

“Oh, you look like you like this a lot better,” Olaf remarked as Remus bit off an expletive, his cock hitting the back of Sirius’s throat. 

“It’s—” Remus tried, before Sirius swirled his tongue along the underside of his cock, a very effective distraction. “The warmth is nice. Warm and— and wet. Feels good.”

“Huh!” Olaf said, watching Sirius’s head bob as he rather expertly sucked Remus off. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“Oh, I am,” Remus managed, clutching Sirius’s hair as his orgasm beckoned. “I’m— fuck!”

Sirius swallowed him down, pulling off with a cheeky smirk. “I’m rather good at that,” he informed Olaf over his shoulder. 

“Interesting!” Olaf said. “Thanks for showing me.”

Remus did a quick clean-up charm on himself before fixing his clothing, really feeling the lack of the warming charms. “Yes, Pads,” he said. “Thanks.”

Sirius winked. “Nothing to it.”

Remus looked over at Olaf, who was still sitting watching them. Olaf smiled, totally at ease.

“So,” Remus said. “What’s the plan now?”

“What?” Sirius asked, finishing a tooth-cleaning charm that also refreshed his breath. “What’d’you mean?”

Remus gestured at Olaf. “You’ve charmed him up,” he said. “What are you going to do with him now?”

Sirius’s face froze. Remus stared at him, then covered his face with his hand. 

“You don’t have a plan,” he said, muffled.

“I didn’t—” Sirius said. “I mean, I wasn’t even sure it would work in the first place!”

_“You don’t have a counter-charm for it, do you?”_

“I—!”

“I really, truly, honestly, am going to murder you, Sirius Nigellus Black,” Remus said, in a very steady voice. 

“Nigellus isn’t even my middle name,” Sirius objected.

 _“That’s not the issue at hand,”_ Remus said. 

“What do you mean, ‘do with me’?” Olaf said, looking between them.

“Well, Flitwick will wonder what on earth happened if we just let you go back as you are, being able to talk and everything,” Remus said. 

“You’re going to kill me?!” Olaf said, looking absolutely terrified. It was an expression that did not suit the snowman at all, and Remus instantly felt awful. They had put rather a lot of effort into making this an enjoyable experience for… the snowman… that Sirius had charmed… into sentience… to be fucked. That sure was a sentence. Remus resolved never to think it again.

“How do you know about death?” Sirius asked. “You didn’t even know what a child was!”

“I’m… not sure,” Olaf said. “Dying is when you’re killed, right?”

“You can die other ways,” Remus said slowly. He was really not sure he should be ruining Olaf’s pure and innocent existence in this way.

“Hmm. That doesn’t sound right,” Olaf said. 

“You could argue that Flitwick kills you every time he takes the coals off you,” Sirius said.

“No, silly, because I still remember!”

“You… remember…” This was bringing up entirely too many ethical quandaries. “So you’re all sentient? Remembering should not be possible if you’re just charmed to walk around. Or — or does that mean the suits of armour remember that time we… oh no.”

Remus buried his head in his hands, the weight of this new and terrible knowledge overwhelming him.

When he finally looked up, Sirius’s face mirrored what he imagined his own looked like. 

“Well,” Sirius said, trying for a bright tone and missing entirely. “I think the first thing we should do is fix up your head. It’s not quite got the structural integrity that it had before. Could we pack some snow into the holes?”

“Sure!” said Olaf. “Students change what I look like all the time! Sometimes they even make me really tall, which means I can see better.”

Every single time Olaf opened his mouth it got worse. Remus would have preferred to go back to fucking him, honestly.

Sirius chose not to acknowledge this statement and instead began filling the holes they’d made with fresh snow. It was the work of only a few moments to make it look like they’d never stuck their cocks in him at all.

“Okay,” Sirius said, taking a deep breath. “Alright. Um, I don’t think we can— we can’t kill him, Moony.”

“No,” Remus said. “I agree. Flitwick will probably be able to trace the spell back to you, though. And while that’s probably not the worst, I worry that… our activities will… get out somehow.”

Sirius hummed and was silent for a moment. Remus could almost see the cogs turning in his head. 

“What if we… just let you loose in the forest, Olaf?” Sirius said at last. “We can visit you if you like.”

Remus tried to communicate with his face that this was an extremely bad suggestion, a terrible burden, and that he _did not want to commit to visiting a snowman he fucked once_. Unfortunately, Sirius was not looking at him.

“You mean, not go back to the castle?” Olaf asked. “But I’ve never done that before!”

“So it’ll be a new adventure!” Sirius enthused. Remus covered his face with his hands.

“Hm. Will someone come take my coal off me at some point?” Olaf asked, mulling this over. 

“Not… if you don’t want me to?” Sirius tried. 

“I don’t like having my coal taken away,” Olaf said finally. “It’s so strange every year when I wake up again and people look different. Oh! Oh!” he said, suddenly animated instead of despondent. “Does this mean I’ll get to see _summer_?”

Sirius opened his mouth. He closed it again. He looked at Remus, who looked back.

“There was that time in Second Year when those Ravenclaws made that heatwave by accident and none of the snowmen melted even though the snow on the ground did,” Sirius said after a long moment. “So the spell Flitwick has on the coal must prevent melting.”

“What’s melting?” Olaf asked.

Fuck fuck shit fuck. Remus had no idea why this felt _worse_ than explaining the concept of death. “It’s… when it gets hot and the snow on the ground disappears,” he said slowly. “It happens at the end of winter.”

“Well, that’s never happened to me,” Olaf said confidently. On one hand, Sirius had a point about the heatwave. On the other hand, Remus had a terrible feeling about this. “I’ve always wanted to see summer. Sometimes students talk about it as if it’s the most magical time of the whole year.”

Sirius looked entreatingly at Remus. “You can see summer,” he said. “We can’t come see you in summer, though. We don’t stay at Hogwarts in the summer.”

“Oh! That’s okay,” Olaf said. “I’ll make more friends.”

“No!” Remus said, unable to control his mouth. 

“I can’t make more friends?” Olaf sounded baffled by this concept.

“It’s— well, you see—”

Sirius came to Remus’s rescue. “If other people meet you, and they find out that I changed the charms on you, I could get in loads of trouble,” he said. “Remus is just worried that your new friends might accidentally tell someone what I did, and that would be bad.”

“Ohhh,” Olaf said. “I don’t want you to get in trouble! We’re friends!”

“That’s right, we are friends,” Sirius said.

“I won’t tell anyone what you did,” Olaf said, uncharacteristically serious. “You shouldn’t get in trouble for making me special.”

“Thanks, Olaf,” Sirius said, sounding a bit choked up. “I won’t tell Flitwick what happened to you, so he won’t come take your buttons away.”

Olaf ran toward him and hugged Sirius’s knees with his little stick-arms. “You’re my _best_ friend,” he said. Sirius wrapped his arms around the top of Olaf’s head, patting him gently. Remus told himself that he was _not_ getting emotional about this.

“Take care of yourself, Olaf, okay?” Sirius said, rubbing the top of his head. The twigs there bent over then popped back upright. 

“Okay,” Olaf said. “You too. Come visit me when you can! I’m going to find a place to live. I always wanted to have a room. The dorms looked so cozy.”

“When were you in the dorm rooms?” Remus asked, his curiosity once more the bane of his existence.

“Sometimes students brought me in,” he said. “It happened… four times, I think. But then I always had to leave again. Ooh, maybe I’ll make myself a bed!”

“You do that, mate,” Sirius said, giving Olaf a little shove. “I’ll come see you and you can show me your new digs.”

“I’m not going to live in a _hole,”_ Olaf said. “I’ll find a nice house or something.”

“Don’t,” Sirius said softly, holding up a hand to stop Remus from telling Olaf that there aren’t houses in the Forbidden Forest. “Digs means where you live, Olaf.”

“Oh! Then yes, I’ll show you my digs,” Olaf said, returning to his usual good humor. “Come visit soon!”

“Be careful out there,” Remus said, unable to help himself from a word of caution. “The Forest can have some… dangerous things in it.”

“I’ll be alright!” Olaf said, waving. “You’ll see!”

“Bye, Olaf,” Sirius said, waving back. Remus began walking away, taking Sirius by the hand and gently leading him away.

“I’ll visit you soon!” Sirius called out as they made their way out of the clearing. Olaf was still waving, putting his whole body into the motion. 

“Oh, love,” Remus said as they made their way back toward the castle. Snow was just beginning to fall, fine white powder that dusted their cloaks and obscured their footprints even as they made them. 

“I know,” Sirius said, looking over his shoulder. “But we couldn’t _kill_ him, so what was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” Remus said, giving his hand a squeeze. “There’s not exactly a Gentleman’s Guide to Enchanting Objects For One’s Sexual Gratification And How To Dispose Of Them Afterwards.”

“Actually,” Sirius said. “That sounds like something my uncle might have brought home and shoved on a library shelf somewhere.”

Remus gave him a look. “You’re not serious.”

He grinned. “I’m always Sirius.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Remus said conversationally.

“Was I meant to ignore such a beautiful set-up?” Sirius asked. “Also, you’ve never met my uncle. He’s definitely strange enough. Maybe I should write to him and ask for tips.”

“Don’t you dare,” Remus said. “We are _never_ doing this again.”

“But I promised Olaf I’d visit!” Sirius said. 

“Fine,” Remus said. “But _no more enchanting inanimate objects for sexual purposes,_ Padfoot, I mean it.”

Sirius grinned. “Well, not before I write to my uncle for the Gentleman’s Guide, anyway.”

“Oh, Merlin. Well, you know what they say about apples and trees,” Remus said as Hogwarts came into view beyond the trees.

“Hey,” Sirius said. “Don’t be rude to trees. My family’s more of a bush. A trellis, perhaps.”

Remus snorted, and the pair made their way back to the castle, laughing as they went.


End file.
